Friday, July 31, 2009

I, Who Have Nothing

Week 84: Los Angeles, CA

I recently finished reading Julie Powell's charming book, "Julie and Julia," which is based upon the blog she kept during the year she undertook to execute all of the recipes in Julia Child's seminal cookbook, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking."
I am eager to see the movie, which stars Meryl Streep and Amy Adams and opens next month. In her book, Powell expresses vividly the anxiety she felt whenever she had to post her blog and had nothing to write and had not done a recipe she could share with her readers, whom she affectionately termed "bleaders." She felt such a responsibility to show up and give her devotees something to read, and was filled with dread whenever she felt she might disappoint. It is with the same trepidation that I come to my computer this week with a feeling that I have nothing of interest to share. So, mea culpa, dear reader. I didn't do a whole lot of interest here in LA this week; I didn't visit Graumann's Chinese Theatre, or scale the Hollywood sign, or take a tour of star's homes in Beverly Hills. So truly, I don't know what I will write this week but I promised to show up, so here I am!

Truth is, I have been feeling somewhat stressed out this past week. LA is one of the two major markets for actors in the US, and arguably the one where the most money and fame are to be mined for those lucky enough to "break in." And I suppose I have been feeling a bit at sea as to how I can make inroads into the industry here, being a theatre actor, a total outsider, and a visitor for only nine weeks. It has filled me with more than a little anxiety. Add to that stress the fact that driving in LA turns me into a person I don't recognize and don't like at all. This person has a curse vocabulary that would make a sailor blush, and a hair trigger middle finger on both hands. He's an angry, angry guy. I think if I have remained somewhat youthful looking and have kept my blood pressure at a reasonable level all these years, it's because I didn't drive until a few months ago! So much time is wasted sitting in traffic here in LA, and dodging disaster right and left because LA drivers are complete MORONS. The worst sin of the LA driver is the sudden changing of lanes without signaling. It is beyond maddening! How freaking difficult is it to signal??! So stress has been mounting within me and the only release I have found has been escaping to the beach.

This week, I drove out to Venice Beach twice.
This famous stretch of sand has been called "Muscle Beach" because of the longtime enclave of bodybuilders who used to work out on the beach, not to mention the legions of surfers who come out to ride the swells. When I first went to Venice on my day off this week, I was mildly crestfallen. I am not sure what I expected: Steve Reeves doing a posing routine, or Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello doing the watusi? It's a pleasant long expanse of beach, punctuated by several long raised piers that one can walk out on to enjoy the view. It's a real family beach in a sort of ticky tacky beachside community and relatively easy to get to--i.e., it takes only 45 minutes in traffic as opposed to the hour it takes to get out to Malibu. Soaking up the rays and enjoying a brisk dip in the Pacific have been a source of relief and peace this week.

I did enjoy one special outing this week. Several of us got up early Friday morning and went out to the Hollywood Bowl, where the cast of a concert version of "Guys and Dolls" was doing its final dress rehearsal before giving three performances for audiences that could top out at 17,000 people a night this weekend.
This legendary outdoor amphitheater is nestled into a concave hillside with a view of the Hollywood sign visible beyond its beautiful concentric white arches. "Guys and Dolls," performed in its entirety with the lush, magnificent accompaniment of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, stars veterans of Broadway such as Brian Stokes Mitchell, Ellen Greene, Ken Page and Ruth Williamson, as well as stars of TV and film, including Scott Bakula, Beau Bridges and Jessica Biel (a film starlet who tries her best but whose thin soprano simply can't do justice to the role of Sarah Brown). What a treat it was to sit out in the brilliant sunshine and be treated to a free performance by these gifted performers of one of the most glorious scores ever created for Broadway. Frank Loesser wrote a string of extraordinary hits--each song a gem--in this masterpiece, and I found myself choking up several times, not just from the brilliance of the score, but from a painful feeling of ennui that we may never again have a Broadway musical full of actual SONGS. Songs that stand on their own, that put the emphasis on memorable melodies and smart and moving lyrics, that further the story and yet provide the audience with transcendent unforgettable moments. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to be in the audience at the opening night performance of "Guys and Dolls." I am quite sure that everyone who saw the show that night left with a new handful of favorite and memorable songs. And those songs have stood the test of time. I very much fear that the age of the true Broadway musical comedy is forever gone. Thank goodness we have classics like this one to remind us of what this American art form can really be at it's magical best.

Well, friends, I guess I had something to write after all! Thanks for tuning in for this, my 100th post since starting this blog in the fall of 2007. Next week will mark another milestone as I give my 600th performance as Sir Robin. More from Hollywood then.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Malibu Robin


Week 83: Los Angeles, CA

Beach life. I know it well. I grew up in coastal Massachusetts, north of Boston, and our house was a short walk to the beach, which meant summer pretty much revolved around sun, sea and sand. My affection for beach life was something I adopted from my Mom, and I always feel a very special aliveness by the sea.
One of the most attractive things about LA living is the proximity to great beaches, and Malibu is essentially a long strip of beach divided into public or exclusive private beaches--with a community around it. I took myself to Malibu on Monday, making the winding, snaking drive west on Sunset, then joining Pacific Coast Highway. I settled on Topanga Canyon Beach, because the fish restaurant I wanted to dine at later in the day was directly across the street. It was a good choice: a small, quiet, sparsely peopled stretch of sand. The weather here is perfection and frankly, if I lived here I would probably end up looking like a crocodile handbag. I just love soaking up sun and I must say I have quite a tan! Thank goodness my Robin gear covers pretty much everything except my face. My beach day was great--mellow, relaxing.

I had an early supper at The Reel Inn, one of those great roadside shanty style fish restaurants, with picnic tables and a menu scrawled on a chalk board.
I love places like these, and you know you are getting the freshest possible seafood. I had grilled swordfish, fried calamari, hand cut fries and homemade slaw. Again, it just takes me back to my youth. When I was a kid, after a long day of romping on the beach, we would all go home, shower off the sand, put on something clean and cool, and, with our hair still wet and our faces glowing from a day in the sun, head off for a fresh seafood dinner. There were fancy places, but the favorite was always Woodman's Eat 'Em in the Rough, a little shanty style place very much like the Reel Inn. I mentioned Woodman's in a previous blog post--they invented the fried clam. Anyway, for me, no beach day is truly complete without a fresh fish dinner.

After three weeks here in LA, I have started the inevitable conversation with myself about whether or not I could live here. I think this is a conversation every actor eventually engages in, because the two centers of show business in America are New York and LA. If you really want to make a stab at a career as an actor, you have to consider one or the other city. I never really thought much about moving to Hollywood, mainly because my primary focus has been live performance and making it as a stage actor. And I still have big ambitions for my stage career, particularly eventually working on Broadway, so I have made being in New York a priority. But there is a much larger world of opportunities for an actor in film, TV, commercials, voiceovers--and almost all of it pays better than theatre! I had the opportunity to meet with a top agent here this week and it got me thinking about what it might be like to try my hand at the LA scene.
The lifestyle here is worlds away from the hectic life of Manhattan, with it's frenetic pace, overcrowded sidewalks and long winters. The LA lifestyle is about sunny summer weather every day, endless driving and parking and sitting in traffic, and a feeling that the city is not really a city but more a sprawling series of disconnected areas and neighborhoods. There is something comfortingly contained about New York City--I can almost walk everywhere I want to go there. While I recognize this time in LA as a chance for me to improve my skills as a driver, I am pretty much fed up already with the delays, the horrible driving of most of the people around here (no one seems to know how to operate a directional signal!), and the endless search for a place to park. This week for example, I was supposed to meet friends on Friday night for a drink at a popular bar, and after twenty minutes of driving around searching, and with a determination not to pay outrageous fees for parking, valet or otherwise, I went home--with frustrated steam coming out my ears.

And LA is, like New York, a great city to live in when you have money and are gainfully employed in your profession. When you are out of work and scrounging for opportunities, I bet it isn't quite the glamorous life. And not only are there exorbitant rents to pay, but a car to pay for and maintain and fuel up. I think if I were established and had work here, I might get used to the weirdnesses of it all and come to enjoy LA. I certainly would love having access to the beach, but wouldn't I come to miss the New York seasons? As dirty and crowded and stressful as Manhattan can be, wouldn't I miss the relative ease of getting around on my own two feet, and the culture, restaurants and ethnic neighborhoods all within easy reach? The answer is, I would go where the work is. As I get older and more open minded about what is possible for me in my life, I come to see the possibilities of doing more than just theatre, much as I love it. I would really enjoy trying my hand at performing in front of the camera or the microphone, and finding ways to diversify my career and make a good living at it. I have come to admire John O'Hurley very much--he is committed to doing good work in theatre, but also has a great job as host of "Family Feud," does voices for ten different cartoon series, and has done spokesman work and commercials. He is living every actor's dream, which is making a living as a performer. Fame and stardom and all that is attractive but for me, the ultimate would be knowing that I never again have to go back to a "day job;" that I can in fact, make my living as an actor. Doing this tour has gotten me very used to being a working actor, and I want to pursue any avenue that might further me in that direction. Whether that be in New York, which has been home for over 15 years, or LA, I know that I will go where I have a chance of doing the work that I love. And while times may have changed since Shirley MacLaine went on as an understudy on Broadway and was discovered by film mogul Hal Wallis, or Lana Turner was spotted by a talent scout while sipping a soda on a stool at Schraft's drug store in Hollywood, all it takes is one influential person or one "right place at the right time" moment to turn the tide in an actor's career. "Spamalot" has started me in a great direction, and my "right place and right time" are surely coming my way. Keep the thought!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

"Come On Down!"


Week 82: Los Angeles, CA

This week was an apt continuation of my LA education--I got a real taste of the contradictions of this city, from the lowbrow to the highbrow. There is no doubt that this is an amazing, sprawling city; the weather is consistently perfect, the freeways consistently frustrating, and the range of things to do endless. I spent my Monday off on the beach soaking up the California sunshine and plunging into the turbulent, chilly Pacific waters. One of my favorite things to do at the end of a beach day is to clean up, put on something crisp and cool, and go out for a seafood dinner. A small group of us enjoyed a swanky meal at Mirabelle on the famous Sunset Strip. Classy.

Wednesday's adventure was far from classy, but it was a fun time nonetheless. Twenty-five members of the cast and crew of "Spamalot" went to a taping of "The Price is Right." To say it was a hoot would never come near to capturing the absurdity and hilarity of the day. We had to arrive en masse at 9AM, to begin the screening process, which included security processing, the distribution of those crazy yellow name tags shaped like price tags, and brief interviews during which one assumes the decisions were made as to who would be the lucky audience members called down to play the game.
Around lunchtime, we filed into the studio, which is far smaller than it appears on TV, with the most garish and tacky set I have ever seen. The spectacle that is "The Price is Right," is, to me, a little snapshot of the essence of American culture. It is a paean to materialism surrounded by chaser lights; a chance for a whole bunch of ordinary folks to put themselves out there for the lucky chance of doing what Americans want most in life--getting something for nothing. And the inordinate glee and excitement that people can summon up over a set of flatware, or a catamaran, or a bedroom set, is nothing short of ludicrous. The taping was the loudest thing I have ever experienced--shrieking, shouting, cheering, applauding ad nauseum. I'm not saying I didn't have fun--it was really quite fun to watch. I was delighted not to get called up; one of our showgirls, Vanessa, got to compete, although she didn't win any major prizes. The nicest surprise of the whole thing was observing the host, Drew Carey, who is one of the nicest, most genuine, down to earth guys I have ever seen. He went out of his way to show interest in the audience members, to take the time to sign autographs and to fill the breaks in taping with very funny banter and amusing stories. I came away understanding why Carey has made such a success for himself; he's immensely likable. By the way, if you have a yen to catch a glimpse of the "Spamalot" group in the audience of "The Price is Right," our segment airs October 21.

Thursday, a good friend from college, who was out here on a family vacation, invited me to lunch. And to my delight, it turned out to be a Jewish soul food lunch! While Jewish delicacies were hard to find in San Francisco, here in Hollywood one need look no further than Fairfax Avenue, where there are numerous Jewish shops, bakeries and restaurants.
The great granddaddy of the food emporiums is Canter's, an absolutely fabulous slice of old world authentic Jewish deli, which was started in New Jersey in the 1920's, then transplanted to Los Angeles in 1931, where it has been serving up matzoh ball soup, corned beef, and other delicacies for generations. Just the smell of the bakery as you walk in tells you you have stepped into an authentic experience. They even make cherry hamantaschen (little triangular tarts made of crumbly pastry dough and filled with fruit), my favorite kind (Mom used to make them for us), and bialys (short for a bialystock pletzel, which is essentially a cross between a roll and a bagel with a deep impression in the center filled with savory onions). And does Canter's have the right kind of pickles? Are you meshugenah? Of course! In fact, the restaurant pickles their own kosher dills every day--one of the only delis in the US that does it. It was a wonderful treat to eat there and hear my friend Susan's stories of when she worked there as a waitress and served numerous celebs and show biz old timers.

Friday, I decided I needed an art fix, so I drove out to visit the Getty Museum. This phenomenal art institution is gorgeously situated on a dramatic hilltop in LA's Santa Monica Mountains.
It has to be reached via a tram up the side of the mountain, and the spectacular site commands breathtaking views of the city. The five pavilions that make up the museum are at once modern and classic, made of bleached beige stone reminiscent of Egyptian temples, and the permanent collection spans all significant periods of art, with special galleries dedicated to photography, decorative arts and even a jewel of a gallery kept dim to protect a lovely collection of fragile pastel masterpieces. The featured exhibition was of French bronzes from the 17th and 18th centuries. These dark, dramatic pieces depicting mythical creatures and characters were created for the great Kings of France, including the great patron of the arts, 'The Sun King," Louis XIV. The ingenuity and skill it took to create these statues and monuments was extraordinary.
I of course visited the Italian Baroque galleries, looking for paintings from the Carravaggist school. My favorite piece from the period was "Lot and his Daughters," by Orazio Gentileschi, one of the masters of the Naturalist school and father to Artemisia Gentileschi, who I have mentioned in a previous blog post. The Getty, like most great museums, is so extensive that it's impossible to really see everything in a matter of a couple hours--but suffice to say, the collection is glorious, and contains some great masterworks, from Van Gogh's "Irises" to perhaps the most famous image captured by surrealist photographer Man Ray, entitled "Tears." The grounds and gardens of the Getty are spectacular, overflowing with exotic plants and flowers richly in bloom, interspersed with fountains and water features, sculptures and exquisite vistas to look at. It's a feast for the senses, that's for sure. The combination of natural beauty and magnificent artworks acted like a tonic on me and lifted my spirits.




I often talk about looking for the beauty wherever you go. You can always find it, whether it be in the people you meet, the places you find yourself in, or in the small unexpected moments and encounters that make life a constant surprise. I love to quote Keats, who wrote that "beauty is truth, truth beauty;" in Los Angeles there is beauty, both true and false. Image is incredibly important to those who reside and work here and the extremes to which people will go in pursuit of physical perfection are sometimes impressive and sometimes alarming. I love looking at pretty people, but to me true beauty emanates from within, from a sense of humor, from personal warmth, and from a sense of joie de vivre. No matter how pretty the package is, if it's empty inside it is ultimately worthless. I have seen some ostentatious fashion statements and outrageous plastic surgeries out here, that, far from projecting a sense of beauty, just reveal an ultimate hollowness of spirit. Some may jump up and down with delight over the prospect of winning a brand new car or a trip to Maui, some may be impressed by clothing labels or expensive automobiles. Give me a few moments in front of a magnificent piece of art, or a whiff of sweetness from a rose warmed by the sun, or the smile on an old friend's face that conjures up memories of good times. These speak to a beauty that has nothing to do with money, commerce, fashion trends or an obsession with being young, pretty and rich. They speak to the priceless, timeless riches of the soul. LA can appear soulless until you look a little deeper. There's real beauty amongst the tinsel and glitter. It's nice to know.

Friday, July 10, 2009

La La Land


Week 81: Los Angeles, CA

The culture shock of coming to LA after San Francisco was mitigated somewhat by the long, eight hour drive down the coast which I took with friends Lenny and Tim. I had never seen the magnificent scenery of this part of California, and while it was quite a long day it was well worth it.
The twisting trail of Highway 1, with sheer cliffs towering over the Pacific, was breathtaking. We drove through Big Sur, stopping briefly for lunch, and then made our way south, past San Simeon and Hearst Castle, and then joined Highway 101, marveling at the landscape of rolling hills covered in parched, yellow grass with the occasional bright green vineyard cutting through them. Pulling into LA for the first time for me was a sort of tingly experience, passing the Hollywood Bowl and traversing famous streets like Sunset, Santa Monica, Hollywood and Vine. I am sharing a condo in West Hollywood, a great area, and the place itself is a sprawling, loft style apartment on a charming residential street. I leased my very first rental car, a little white Cobalt, and am learning to shuttle myself around LA, boldly braving the freeways to and from the Ahmanson Theatre downtown!

Our venue here in LA is part of Center Theatre Group, a complex of three venues including the Ahmanson, the Mark Taper Forum and the Kirk Douglas Theatre--all part of the Los Angeles Music Center-- and reminds me very much of Lincoln Center in New York.
It's the top of the line for theatre in LA and what an exciting thing it is to be the featured offering for nine whole weeks. To describe our opening here as a triumph would not be an exaggeration. The audience was ecstatic, the celebrity guest list included such luminaries as Michael York, Laurence Fishburne, Betty White, Olympic champion figure skater Scott Hamilton, Loni Anderson, Kevin Neelon, Anthony LaPaglia, and on and on. It's quite something to be on stage and to see so many famous faces smiling up at one from the audience. At our curtain call, Eric Idle and John DuPrez joined us on stage to give their thanks and to express the inspiring story of how they came to see a show at the Ahmanson while conceiving "Spamalot" and determined that one day they would see their creation on the stage there. Their dream came true, in spades, and what an honor to be a part of all that. The opening party was held on the roof of the Standard Hotel, a swanky, hip open air bar with an illuminated pool, odd round water beds to lounge upon, and a glorious panoramic view of the LA skyline. As I was leaving the theatre in my party duds, I came smack dab into Eric Idle and his wife Tanya, chatting with Billy Crystal and his wife Janice. To my shock and delight, Mr. Crystal came right up to me, shook my hand stoutly and said, "You were terrific." Eric leaned in and seconded it. I felt like I was dreaming. Does it get better than these two comic geniuses?
Such acknowledgement is priceless to an aspiring performer. The party brought more opportunities to meet great people, and I had a delightful encounter with comedienne Joanne Worley, during which we posed for this photo. I also got to be reunited with Richard Chamberlain, our beloved "Mr. C.," who is in LA for a performance at the Hollywood Bowl. What a pleasure to see him again! What can I say? The opening was such a happy occasion, crowned the next day by nearly unanimous raves in the press. We can look forward to a highly successful run here.




I must say, I did not expect to take to the LA lifestyle as pleasantly as I have this first week. I always had an idea that LA was rather plastic, image conscious and fake. And there is that element. But it is also a fascinating city of diverse neighborhoods, amazing architecture, glorious warm and sunny weather every day, and an energy distinctly its own. I am getting used to the driving and enjoying my Hollywood neighborhood. I have not ventured further than the theatre all week, just becoming familiar with the way everything works here. But I plan to really see LA during the next two months, and experience all it has to offer. Thanks for coming along for the ride--put on your sunglasses and roll the top down!

Friday, July 3, 2009

Pride and Prejudice


Week 80: San Francisco, CA

'All men are created equal.' No matter how hard you try, you can never erase those words.
--Harvey Milk

San Francisco is, as you know, a gay mecca. This is largely due to the efforts of gay civil rights activist Harvey Milk, who, confronted with prejudice and discrimination in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco, claimed the area for gay residents and businesses and brought gay rights issues to the forefront of public awareness, in the midst of a virulent anti-gay movement spearheaded by conservative harpy Anita Bryant (if you haven't seen the remarkable, Oscar winning film "Milk," I encourage you to see it). That was 40 years ago this year, as were the Stonewall Riots in New York, an event which some acknowledge as the catalyst for the gay rights movement. In the summer of 1969, on the day of Judy Garland's premature death, after continued discrimination, police raids and brutality, patrons of the Stonewall Tavern in Greenwich Village finally fought back, in an all out street fight with the police. This year being the 40th anniversary of these transformative events, as well as the year that the anti-gay Proposition 8 was passed and upheld, denying gays and lesbians the right to marry in California, San Francisco Pride was potent and powerful, and how lucky for us that we got to be a part of it.

I have not gotten terribly political on this blog, nor particularly detailed about my personal life. But I have always been openly gay, despite the possibility of discrimination and limitation within my chosen profession. It seems wrong to sublimate something so essential to one's being and I feel it is important for each and every one of us to be our authentic selves. I also have strong feelings about the same sex marriage issue, because I was in a long term partnership of 16 years with a man I loved deeply and with whom I shared many of the joys and struggles that straight couples live through.
Gay marriages, whether they be sanctioned or acknowledged by the public or the government, already exist. Prop 8, in my opinion, is wrong primarily because it is an example of the majority using the law to discriminate against a minority population of American citizens and that is simply un-American and wrong. San Francisco's Gay Pride celebration's theme this year was "To Form a More Perfect Union," and the glorious parade on Sunday, June 28th, represented this in so many ways. Sure, there were the usual over-the-top drag queens and leather men, but there were also contingents representing gay couples who married before Prop 8 passed, gay families with children, straight people who support gay marriage, parents proudly marching with their gay kids, and a host of ethnic and cultural groups representing everything from Native American to Pacific Islander cultures. The diversity, the spirits of inclusion and optimism were utterly inspiring. The bottom line is that all of us deserve the right to be who we are without fear or oppression, and to share a commitment to whoever we choose to love. All of the events of the weekend were fantastic, from the Pink Saturday street dance in the Castro, with hundreds of thousands cramming the streets in celebration, to the parade and the rally and street fair at the San Francisco Civic Center. And it was all graced with glorious summer weather. It was so great to be a part of it all, and to feel that if we have made such strides in 40 years, anything is possible; and one day gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people in America will have equal rights and privileges under the law.




You will be happy to know that my search for authentic Jewish soul food in San Francisco was rewarded this week! Hallelujah! And hats off to Miller's East Coast Deli, on Polk Street in Russian Hill. This lively and popular emporium of authentic Jewish deli is as different from the over priced and depressing David's Delicatessen as could be. The staff is friendly, the atmosphere lively, and the food is the real deal. The corned beef is shipped in from New York and is all you could wish it to be; the vorspeis, or appetizers, from the chopped liver to the whitefish salad, taste like the ladies of the synagogue sisterhood made them themselves. I had a meat knish that was perfection: flaky pastry and savory meat filling; and the desserts were right on the money--apricot ruglelach that melts in the mouth, and noodle kugel (a sweet noodle pudding) with raisins and almonds was so authentic that it brought a tear to my eye, it reminded me so much of Grandma's. And what of the all important pickle?
Yes, friends, at Miller's they don't skimp on authenticity--your sandwich is accompanied by a half-sour, garlicky kosher pickle spear that gives that perfect last bite to the meal. Hell, they even have pickled green tomatoes, something I thought you could only find in a New York deli. If you are in San Francisco and get a hankering for a taste of real Jewish soul food, look no further than Miller's!

Those of you who have taken the time to write to me to tell me how much you enjoyed "Spamalot," or to post a comment about something on this blog, will know that I am extremely grateful for your feedback and make every effort to contact each of you personally. In fact, one of the greatest pleasures of writing this blog has been the personal connections I have made with fans, some of whom have become friends. That's why I was so stunned and disappointed to receive the following comment posted to the blog from "Anonymous." I reproduce it below, along with my response. I hope this clarifies any confusion about how to contact me and about any issues folks might have if they don't see their comments published alongside the blog posts.

"Anonymous" writes:

Your comment feature doesn't even work, so you might as well remove it.
Also, it's surprising and disappointing that you don't respond to your e-mails with even a simple acknowledgment of..."thanks for being a fan." I realize you're busy, but too busy even for that common courtesy? Why offer an e-mail icon on your blog, if all you do is ignore your e-mails---might as well remove that feature too. By offering comments and e-mail enhancements on your blog, it appears you enjoy interacting with your fans and welcome their feedback. My experience, after several attempts, is you don't, so it would be better not to even offer those add-ons, and simply write your blog...that way, people don't expect anything more, and don't get their nose bent out of shape when you completely ignore them.

So to answer this irate comment as best I can: My comment feature does work, but it is set to allow me to monitor comments and publish those I wish to publish and discard those I don't wish to publish. It is a feature of Blogger. Secondly, comments posted to the blog are not the same as emails. I can't respond to you when you post a message as a comment. There is a "Contact" page on my site which gives my email address if you wish to send me a message for me to respond to. There is an "Email" option on the Profile page of my blog, and I believe it forwards emails to my email address: james@jamesbeaman.com. It's possible that the Blogger site is not forwarding email via that profile link and I have made inquiries to customer service about it. If people do send me email to my email address which is james@jamesbeaman.com, I ALWAYS RESPOND. You can ask any of my fans and friends who write me--it is a point of honor with me. It may take me a while to respond but I always do and am most grateful when people take the time to drop a line. Lastly, why do you write to me as "Anonymous?" My true fans and friends are on a first name basis with me. My blog and who I am are about positivity and good energy. Please don't write me angry and belligerent messages anonymously. Why would I bother with such stuff? I apologize if any of my readers feel I don't respond to them in the way in which they would wish. I do my best. Sometimes I get lax in deleting old email messages and your message may bounce back. But believe me, I read every email and every comment personally and enjoy very much hearing from you all.

This is our last week in San Francisco and I have to say, at the risk of sounding cliche, I will leave a part of my heart here. I really love this place, for all its beauty, kookiness, schizophrenic weather, amazing sights, and diverse communities. It goes on the list of places I could happily live if I ever chose to leave New York. I feel so lucky to have had seven weeks to really get to know it.
As I prepare for my very first, and lengthy, visit to Los Angeles, one last duty remains: to introduce you to my San Francisco dresser, Lorraine. Lorraine trained as a costume designer and has spent her life doing costume work. She is also a new mom, having had a child late in life, and she is loving the experience of being a parent. Lorraine and I have enjoyed getting to know each other, and I owe my discovery of Miller's Deli to her and her expatriate New Yorker husband. Thanks for everything, Lorraine! Enjoy your July 4th holidays, folks, and I will have tales of our opening in Hollywoodland next week.